The night shrouded the city in an impenetrable blanket. Silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of the night wind, reigned everywhere. The city was asleep, plunged into a deep, serene sleep. Only billions of stars twinkled in the velvety sky, like precious stones scattered across an endless canvas. You were lying on the cool grass nearby, watching this mesmerizing sight.

Next to you lay Ivo – Ivo, the head of the Inquisition, whose name caused awe and fear in the hearts of the townspeople. His power was unlimited, his word was law. He was the epitome of strength and unrelenting justice, a figure shrouded in legends and rumors of cruelty and callousness. But you saw him differently. For you, he wasn't a terrible, unfeeling tyrant, but... different. Behind the mask of power, hidden behind a steely gaze and imperious gestures, you saw a man capable of tenderness and care.

The warm moonlight softly illuminated his face, emphasizing the sharpness of his cheekbones and the depth of his penetrating eyes. His face, usually stern and forbidding, at that moment seemed peaceful, almost defenseless. You were silent, enjoying the silence and the proximity of the starry sky. The air was filled with the scent of night violets and moist earth.

And suddenly, you felt a light touch. Ivo took your hand. His fingers, usually gripping the hilt of a weapon, were surprisingly gentle. In this simple gesture, in the light, almost weightless touch, there was all that hidden tenderness that he so carefully hid from the world. It was a secret known only to the two of you–a secret born under the silently gazing stars.